


Nadia Blue Herbert

by SleepyEye



Category: Cormoran Strike Series - Robert Galbraith
Genre: Childbirth, Complications in childbirth, Fluff, very mild angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-16
Updated: 2018-03-16
Packaged: 2019-04-01 01:13:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13987275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SleepyEye/pseuds/SleepyEye
Summary: Post CoE. Nick and Ilsa have a baby. Lots of love all around. Can be read along with Cunliffe and Strike Investigative Services, but can also be stand alone.





	Nadia Blue Herbert

Nick met Cormoran in the waiting room, looking like he had aged ten years in one night. He had deep circles around his eyes and his hair seemed grayer than usual. He led Cormoran into the NICU.

“How’s Ilsa?” Cormoran asked.

“She's out of surgery. Still sleeping. They said that it was successful, but I don't know how successful a hysterectomy can be. I mean it's gone, either way.”

“And the baby?”

“She’s stable. Come here, take a look.”

Nick led Cormoran over to an incubator in the corner.

“This is Nadia Blue Herbert.”

Cormoran could barely bring himself to look at the shriveled little creature in the plastic box, the cause of Ilsa’s suffering, but once he looked he couldn’t look away.

“Ah,” Cormoran said, “She’s beautiful.”

“She hasn't opened her eyes yet,” Nick said, “but they say that's normal.”

She was curled up on her side, a tiny wrinkled loaf of a person, almost entirely head.

“You can touch her, you know,” Nick said, “That’s what the little holes in the side of the box are for.”

“Oh, ah… Really?”

“They say that preemie babies need a lot of physical touch.”

“It won’t hurt her?”

“I mean don’t strangle the child. But you can touch her.”

“I, erm. My hands are cold. I’ll wait.” Cormoran buried his hands deeper into his pockets. The truth was that he couldn’t imagine polluting the pure little life in the box with his fat grimy fingers.

“Mister Herbert?” They turned to see a nurse with a clipboard. “Your wife is awake and asking for you.”

“Right,” Nick said. He turned to Cormoran, and Cormoran had never seen his friend so pale. “Oggy, I have to go see to Ilsa, but I can’t leave the baby alone. If…”

“Go to Ilsa,” Cormoran said, “I’ll stay with her.”

Nick nodded grimly and followed the nurse out.

Cormoran sat in the large armchair by the incubator and watched the tiny creature inside. The baby looked more like a fish than a human, with waxy white skin and a face too big for her head. Her arms were pencil thin, and she flexed her tiny fingers in her sleep. Cormoran looked over his shoulder, then, carefully, took his hand out of his pocket and slid it into the hole on the side of the incubator. He reached out a tentative finger and traced the outline of her shoulder, barely touching her. She was warm and soft. She was barely bigger than his hand, her foot the size of the pad of his thumb. Aside from the tube going into her nostrils, she was completely unmarred and untouched by the outside world. He had never seen anything so fragile. It was like a breath would blow her to pieces.

Then, to his surprise, she reached out and grabbed his finger. Her hand didn’t even cover his first knuckle, but her grip was powerful and unyielding, and took his breath away. She was hanging onto life with the strength of a prize fighter.

 

Robin drove to the hospital like a mad woman, using all of her advanced driving techniques to get there faster, but the freak snowfall had put the city into a gridlock and there was only so much she could do. Once she got to the hospital she skipped the lift and took the stairs two at a time to the NICU.

The room was full of machines, all beeping and whirring and humming, glowing and pulsing, pumping and dripping and regulating. Cold, lifeless machines, chugging away. Nurses hovered over each station, comforting parents, delivering bad news. Robin’s eyes darted from one incubator to another, searching for any familiar face.

“Sparrow, favorite of my girl, with whom she likes to play, whom she likes to hold in her lap...”

Cormoran’s voice was hoarse and low, but it shot through Robin like a spring in the desert. She turned to see Cormoran in the farthest corner of the room, sitting in a large armchair, reading softly to the child inside the incubator.

“For whom she gives her fingertip to bite when she, my shining desire, has a mind for some sweet pretty play. Hoping, I believe, that when the sharper sting of love abates, she may find some small relief from her pain...”

He was lit by the incubator’s dim glow. His face was softened with exhaustion and tenderness, his finger still caught in the iron grip of Nadia Herbert’s tiny fist.

“Mourn, oh Cupids and Venuses, and whatever there is of rather pleasing men: The sparrow...” His voice cracked. “The sparrow…” His chin warped and his face crumpled in grief. Robin sat on the chair’s padded arm and pulled him into her, running her hand through his hair. She reached for the book and sought out the verse.

“The sparrow of my lady has died,” she read, “The sparrow, delight of my girl, whom she loved more than her own eyes.” Cormoran leaned into her and tried to breathe, but his breaths came out as harsh, shuddering gasps that took all his effort to contain. Robin rested her cheek on the top of his head and they sat like that, swaying slightly.

“I’m scared, Robin.”

“I know. Me too.”

“What if…” He couldn’t finish. There were too many things that could go wrong, all of them unspeakably painful.

“It’s all going to be okay,” Robin said.

“I didn’t think I could love somebody so fast.”

“I know.” She sighed into his hair. “I know.”

Her eyes drifted to the incubator.

“Cormoran, look!”

He turned so fast he nearly gave himself whiplash, convinced that something had gone terribly wrong.

“She’s looking at you,” Robin said.

Sure enough, Nadia Herbert was blinking up at Cormoran with dark, curious eyes. He gave a watery chuckle.

“She is, isn’t she,” he said. He leaned in until his nose was practically touching the plastic. “Hello, Nadia,” he said. He turned to Robin. “What do I do?” he asked.

“Introduce yourself.”

“Alright, ah… My… My name is Cormoran. I know it’s a bit of an odd name, so you… You can call me Cameron... If you’d like.” He gestured towards Robin. “And this is Robin.”

Robin leaned in.

“Hello Nadia,” she said, “We’re not your parents, but we love you.”

Cormoran looked up and saw Nick pushing Ilsa over in a wheelchair.

“Ilsa!” Cormoran said, “Shouldn't you be resting?”

“I wanted to see my baby,” she said. Her glasses were on crooked and she spoke with a slur.

“She wouldn't take no for an answer,” Nick said. He lowered his voice to a stage whisper. “She's high off her balls.”

“I heard that,” Ilsa said. She stared into the incubator at her daughter.

“Hey...” she said with a drunken smile, “Hey, baby.” She looked at Nick. “Look, Nicky, look what we made,” she said, “We did that.” She beamed down at her daughter. “Isn't she the most beautiful thing you've ever seen?”

They all stared at the baby like she was a campfire, all warmth and energy, nobody able to look away.

“Thanks for staying with her, Oggy,” Nick said.

“Any time,” Cormoran said, “We got acquainted. I read to her.” He held up the book in demonstration.

“ _Catallus?”_ Ilsa said, “You read my infant _Catallus?”_

“Start them young with the classics,” Cormoran said.

“And you chose the classic full of prostitution and anal sex.”

“Please. That's one chapter,” Cormoran said.

The baby opened her mouth in a yawn and everyone stopped, captivated. Ilsa reached into the other hole and stroked her head. Nadia let go of Cormoran’s finger and grabbed her mother’s. Ilsa’s jaw dropped in surprise and delight.

“She's so strong,” she said.

“Like her mum,” Nick said.

Robin didn't think she could take so much beauty. She felt like the world was peeling back to reveal some great treasure underneath, visible only to those beatified four sitting around a little plastic box in a hospital. What had any of them done to deserve such a privilege? She wrapped her arms around Cormoran’s neck and didn’t question it. She just let it soak through her like a sponge.


End file.
